


if your love was bad for you.

by orphan_account



Series: Prompts [10]
Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe- Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Hurt and comfort, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, mentions of cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 23:57:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19030570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Prompt: angsty unrequited type of situation with a happy and/or bittersweet ending.My fill for @sinningtozier for the @it2ficexchange





	if your love was bad for you.

Richie Tozier is fourteen years old, and he was kissed by Bill Denbrough for the first time. They were sitting down in the Toziers spacious basement. The last couple of weeks, since starting high school, Richie along with Bev, Stan and Bill had started dabbling in smoking weed. Eddie was always quick to turn up his nose at the mere thought and then launch into a rant about the harm of lung cancer. Ben, a little similarly to Eddie, seemed convinced that his mother would be able to take one look at him and now what they’d been doing. He was  quick to duck out once somebody brought it out, always quick to cite a separate reason while everybody knew the truth. Mike would laugh off all his friends suggestions of him trying it, smiling to himself as though he had some sort of secret.

This evening, only Richie and Bill were left behind, with everybody else already on their ways home or somewhere else. Darkness had settled over Derry, Maine, and all the Losers knew it was dangerous place to be caught outside once the sun went down. The murders of 1989 might have stopped, and Henry Bowers might be sitting behind the walls Juniper Hill, but his minions still walked free and it just felt... sinister. This town was beyond ruined for the young teens that lived there, and they all often counted down the days until they were able to leave and never look back.

“Do you ever think about leaving this place, Big Bill?” Richie asked, resting his hands on his stomach. His high was rapidly falling, as Richie found was usually true. It was a though his brain couldn’t hold it even when it wanted to, always coming down much faster than any of his friends. Maybe his brain just moved too fast, his father always told him it did.

“Everyday.” Bill responded immediately. His stutter was always non-existent in moments like this, Richie had noticed more than once. While his stutter had gotten less obvious the older they got, but it never really went away completely except when it was just the two of them. That thought always made Richie feel like a little fuzzy inside.

“Where would you go?” Richie asked, still looking up at the ceiling a little pointedly. Bill was maybe closer to him than Richie had originally thought they were laying, he could feel the heat radiating off of him. “When you leave Derry?”

“As far away as possible,” Bill said with a sigh. “England, maybe. All the way across the ocean sounds good.” Richie hadn’t even had the chance to open his mouth before Bill was reaching out and pinching them shut. 

"If you even think about doing the British guy right now, you’re not allowed to come visit me ever.”

Richie knocked Bill’s hand away, grinning toothily up at him. “Aye, matey, I would never be a visiting ‘ou. We’ll across the pond together.”

Bill scowled down at Richie’s terrible, slightly pirate-like, accent before his face softened at the words. Before Richie could really react to anything, Bill was leaning down and pressing his lips to Richie’s. It just a quick brush, then Bill was gone. Laying back on the ground with a simple,  _ beep beep trashmouth.  _

_ ★ ★ ★  _

Richie Tozier is fifteen years old, and he still fucking hated clowns. They were creepy, alright? There was something about those pale faces matched with all those bright colours that made Richie’s skin crawl. He told Bill Denbrough as much, when he linked his arms through Bill’s and pulled him away. 

“Then why don’t you creep yourself, th-t-then?” Bill asked him with a chuckle. Richie let out a loud, mock-offended noise and moved to pulled away but Bill tugged at him. Tucked him back into his side. “Come on, let’s g-g-get hot dogs.”

Richie followed with Bill, tucked a little happily under Bill’s arm. After that stupid stoned kiss the year before, Richie’s crush on Bill Denbrough that he’d been ignoring since- well, probably since kindergarten- had bubbled itself up to the surface and was constantly chewing at his self peace. It didn’t help that Bill had never mentioned it again, making it clear to Richie that it meant nothing to Bill and everything to him. 

Richie had chatted Stan’s ear off for a good couple of months after it had happened, which Stan had spent the time insisting that Bill did like Richie, he must have if he kissed him, and even trying to encourage Richie to ask Bill out. That had all fallen apart when Bill had dragged over some girl from his writer’s society, and introduced her as his new girlfriend. Richie had been crushed, but had avoided Stan’s looks of concern and pity, always quick to push aside feelings when they start to see even slightly troublesome.

That had been a few months ago, still, and Richie supposed that Bill and his girlfriend were still together, he’d mention her every couple of days of things they’d done, but Richie rarely saw her. She never sat with them at lunch or hung out with them outside of school. He’d sometimes get a glimpse of Bill walking with her in the hallways, and Bill now sat with her during history instead of Richie, but they weren’t the closest couple from what Richie was ever able to see. Didn’t stop it from stinging a little bit, the confirmation that kissing Richie was nothing to Bill.

Bill paid for Richie’s hot dog and drink, even though Richie had his own money from the part time job at the movie theater, and Richie smiled a little bashfully when Bill handed it to him. “I-I sort of h-h-hated carnivals, too. They’re t-t-too loud.”

“I’m too loud,” Richie answered without thinking, one of those little times when his personal insecurities came shining through his joking composure. 

Bill turned to look at him, his brow furrowing. “You a-are loud.” He agreed, and Richie hunched in on himself slightly. “Bu-buh-but not too loud.” 

Richie smiled, nudging Bill’s shoulder with his own. “Thanks, Big Bill.” Richie did something he knew he shouldn’t do, something that was wrong and not good. Bill wasn’t Eddie, who would laugh and then flip him off, but Richie still found himself doing it.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Bill’s cheek. He pulled back quickly and offered up a small smile. He started turning away, but Bill cupped Richie’s chin and pulled him back. Kissed him on the lips. Richie let out a gasp as he felt Bill’s lips moving against his own. Richie melted into it, wishing he had a free hand, and pressed himself a little bit closer to Bill’s body.

Bill pulled back first, again, and licked his bottom lip. He cleared his throat, face burning red, and turned around. “Fuh-fuh-finish that huh-hot-hot dog, Tozier. I puh-puh-paid guh-good money for tuh-that.”

Richie stared at the side of Bill’s head in a daze as he took the hot dog towards his still tingling mouth.

_ ★ ★ ★  _

Richie Tozier is sixteen years old, and Bill Denbrough had him pressed back into the couch cushions. Richie let out a harsh exhale of breath, turning his head to side while Bill’s mouth lacked onto Richie’s neck. Their hips might have rocking together, Richie wasn’t even sure, because it felt like Bill was  _ everywhere.  _

It had been months of this, hang outs during into Richie and Bill alone at the end of the night, Bill leaning into Richie’s space, laying him down and kissing for hours until Richie thought he’d need Eddie’s inhaler to get a single breath. Knees feeling weak for hours after Bill went home. Heart racing in his chest like an injured bird that was trying to fly but couldn’t get off the ground

It was never anything more than this. Hot lips on lips, or neck, and hands touching under shirts. Bill always locked right up if Richie tried to move any further than that, not able to get any words out beyond his stutter in those moments. Richie knew what they were, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what this was. He knew that when Bill left his house, he’d make a nightly phone call to his girlfriend and tell her that he loved her. 

Richie groaned, a noise not of any sort of pleasure, but of the sudden sick feeling settled in his stomach. Bill pulled off his neck, where an obvious mark was now sitting high enough that Richie would have to wear a fucking turtleneck to cover ti up. “Wh-what’s wrong?” Bill asked, wiping the spit off his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Richie pushed at Bill’s head, forcing himself into a seated position and tugging at the curls on his head. He couldn’t look at Bill in this moment, suddenly felt that maybe he’d never be able to look at him again.  “What are you doing after this?”

Bill’s face seemed to pale as he moved away from Richie’s body, putting that space between them. It felt so much more than it really was, Richie couldn’t remember the last time he’d been sitting on the same couch as Bill without their bodies touching. Bill sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. “You know wuh-wuh-where I’m guh-going.”

Yeah, Richie knew. It would be nice if Bill would say it, though. Just once. Richie grabbed his hoodie that he’d stripped off when he’d got overheated while kissing, and tugged it back over his head. “You should probably go, then. Don’t want to be late for her.”

Bill blinked at him, then frowned. “I duh-don’t need to go for at luh-least an hour.”

Richie let out a little half sigh himself and stood up, starting to gather up the empty drink containers and dishes off the little coffee table. “You don’t want to be late. Go there smelling like me.”

“Wuh-we use the suh-suh-same sa-shampoo. She-she wuh-won’t nuh-notice.” Bill struggled to get the words out, and Richie was sure if he looked at Bill his face would be a deep red. But Richie simply stiffened, then threw the garbage a little harsher than necessary into the bin. “Are you okay?”

Richie shook his head. “You should just go, Bill. I can’t keep doing this. Find somebody else to cheat on your girlfriend with.”

Bill made an awkward noise in the back of his throat. An uncomfortable noise. Letting Richie know that his little reminder wasn’t welcome. “Yuh-you  _ knew  _ wuh-what this was. You nuh-never tuh-told me that-”

“I’m telling you now!” Richie cut him off with a sharp yell, dropping the trash bin to the ground and turning around to look at Bill. His friend- his  _ whatever they were-  _ was still sitting on the couch, hands hanging between his legs. His hair was a mussed mess and his eyes were sad, and he looked  _ beautiful. _ “I’m telling you now. I can’t fucking do this anymore.”

Bill swallowed harshly, his shoulders tensing. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Richie nodded, once and moved outside to bring the garbage into the bigger can in the garage. When he came back into basement, Bill and all his things were gone. 

_ ★ ★ ★  _

 

Richie Tozier is seventeen years old, and he’d just gotten a promotion. It was just a position of longer hours at the theater, but he lived for it. The idea that he was good at something, could do something. Ever since Bill had kissed him the year before, and continued on dating his girlfriend, Richie had let himself slip away from the Losers. He loved his friends, he loved  _ Bill,  _ but he wasn’t going to let himself be the Other Person. Not even for Bill Denbrough. 

“You look like shit, Tozier.” Stanley Uris’ voice carried over to him, and Richie sighed. He supposed the most awkward times for him was whenever his friends- old friends? No, just friends. Still his friends- came in to see a movie. 

Richie forced a smile at his best friend, running his fingers through his messy hair. He winced at the dryness that he found, wondering for a short second how long it had been since he’d showered. “Ah, you know me, Stan the Man. Always looking like a mess.”

Stan clucked his tongue, looking skeptically at Richie for a long moment before shaking his head. “Everybody else is going to be here soon. I came ahead of them to warn you, in case you wanted to go hide in the back.”

It was a passive aggressive comment, not a genuine offer of escape and they both knew it. Stan and Eddie, in particular, had been supportive of Richie’s original departure from the group, believing that Richie needed some space and would soon be back. The longer that Richie was separate, the less they seemed to tolerate his absence. “I work here,” Richie replied to Stan a little stiffly. enjoying how Stan’s eyebrows raised up. “I’m not going to run and hide. If Bill doesn’t want to see me, he can find something else to do on Saturday nights besides see movies.”

“Bill doesn’t  _ no _ t want to see you, Rich.” Stan said quietly, his face opening up and looking a little softer.

“No, that’s the problem, I guess.” Richie said, knowing his voice was too sharp and that he had walls up around himself that Stan could see through without squinting. “The problem is that he  _ does,  _ and I can’t keep getting dicked around like that. It’ll kill me.”

A sad look settled itself on Stan’s face but he was suddenly interrupted by a small shout of “Trashmouth!” before Richie found himself with an arm full of Eddie Kaspbrak. Richie let out a surprised little laugh before a mess of red hair that could only be Beverly Marsh was attaching herself to him as well. 

Richie greeted all of his friends, finding himself feel little in a way that he hadn’t in a while. Too long. His eyes fell onto Bill and he wondered if everybody could see the walls around him as they went up. “Huh-hey, Rich.” Bill said, his cheeks turning red. 

Richie blinked at him, thinking for a moment about how much his friends knew about what happened. Stan and Bev, they knew everything, as Richie had told them. Called them after Bill had left that night, and they’d both sneaked over to sit with him while cried through most of the night. Stan Uris and Beverly Marsh, the only two people Richie would let see him at his absolute lowest. Had Bill told the others? Or were they completely in the dark to why everything had changed?

Something in his gut told him that Bill would never have told anybody about them, and his resolve to stay far the fuck away from Bill Denbrough hardened inside him. He put on a formal face, one that if the stunned expression Eddie gave him meant anything, was extremely convincing. “Our self service devices are out of order tonight, so you’ll have to buy your tickets up at the concession stand. Enjoy the movies, guys.”

Richie nodded with as much friendliness as he could muster, and turned to go find something to do when a hand grabbed his wrist. “Wuh-wuh-wait.” Bill said, squeezing Richie’s wrist. “Can I tuh-talk to you?”

Richie swallowed a little roughly, and gave a short nod to hesitating Beverly. As she finally walked slowly away, Richie looked at Bill and turned his customer service persona up to eleven. “How can I help you?” 

Bill huffed out a breath, his eyes squeezing shut. “Richie, can you nuh-not be luh-like this? El-luh-lizabeth and I bruh-broke up.” 

And well.. Richie  _ had  _ heard that. In a school as small as Derry High, it would have been impossible for him to have not to. It was all anybody talked about for three days, until David Miller sent Shauna Finchel’s nudes around and Billy and Elizabeth’s sudden break up was pushed aside. Part of Richie had wondered if Bill was going to come talk to him, but he refused to play with the idea that he was that important. 

But now Bill stood in front of him, shuffling and looking  _ oh-so guilty.  _ Richie shook his head. “I’m not sure what you expect me to do with that information, Billy Boy. Are you offering her up to me, I help ease her through this tough time if you know what I mean.” Richie thrust his hips sexually and Bill just stared at him blankly.

“Richie, can you juh-juh-just...” Bill swore under his breath. “You can cuh-come back to the gruh-group, is what I muh-meant.”

Richie cracked his knuckles and tongued at his teeth. “Do you?  _ All miss me.”  _

Bill clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow. “ _ Yes.”  _

Richie bit his bottom lip and nodded. 

_ ★ ★ ★  _

Richie Tozier is eighteen years old, and he was standing on the old Derry bridge after graduating high school. He had Eddie Kaspbrak tucked under one arm, and was sharing a hilarious conversation about nothing with Ben Hanscom. There were after parties going on all over town, but the Losers were in no rush to get to to any of them. Everybody they really wanted to see was standing right here. 

Richie glanced over his shoulder at where Bill was laughing loudly with Mike, palming a beer that Richie suspected that he wasn’t really drinking, and sighed a little louder than he’d intended. He felt Eddie shift underneath him and he looked down at Eddie’s little face, the other boy- or man? Were they men now? Richie didn’t feel like a man- looked oddly tiny with Richie’s bomber jacket on. 

“Go talk to him,” Eddie said simply, offering Richie a smile. “You two are being idiots. Fix whatever’s broken here. I’m begging you, this weird pretending you don’t care about each other shit is getting old.”

Richie looked at Ben, half hoping his friend would be on his side, but Ben had already started nodding before Richie finished his turn. Sighing, Richie dropped his arm away from Eddie and shuffled over to Bill with his hands in his suit pants. 

When Mike and Bill noticed Richie approaching, Mike patted Bill on the shoulder and he smiled at Richie as he moved to talk to Beverly and Stan. Richie gave Bill a small smile, opened his mouth and-

“Are yuh-you and Eddie duh-dating?” 

Richie blinked and gaped at Bill, completely taken back by the question. He turned back to Eddie, who was sitting up on the railing of the bridge and cackling, and Richie spluttered out a laugh. “What?  _ Eddie _ ? No, fuck no. Eddie’s my little buddy.” 

Bill flushed. “He’s wuh-wearing your juh-jacket.”

“He was cold!” Richie laughed, brushing his overgrown curls away from his face. “He weighs like fifty pounds, dude, and he was wearing a  _ vest _ suit! Are Eddie and I dating... Jesus Christ, Denbrough. And I thought  _ I  _ had marbles for brains.” 

“Yuh-you  _ do  _ have muh-marbles for brains,” Bill muttered, but while the attempt was there that attitude was not. Bill was still staring down at his feet with red cheeks. “I just thu-thought it would make suh-sense if you and Euh-Eddie were...”

Richie let out a harsh cackle, hunching over and wrapping his arms around his stomach. “Oh my  _ God,  _ stop. Stop. I’m going to fucking piss myself. Oh my God.”

“Stop laughing at me, dick weed!” Bill pushed at Richie, knocking him against the railing. It wasn’t a violent movement, both boys going up against it giggling. 

Richie suddenly realized how close they were, faces almost touching. Richie gave him a grin. “Why so concerned about me and Eds? Ya jealous, Big Bill?” And it was a joke.  _ Oh,  _ was it a joke. Richie’s entire life was a joke, really.

“Muh-maybe.” Bill admitted anyway and Richie blinked at him. The two of them stared at one other, breath caught in their throats, until Bill grinned at him. “I duh-don’t want Euh-Eddie to get uh-over his cruh-crush on you for the luh-likes of  _ you.  _ It’ll be a bluh-blow to my ego.”

Richie laughed so hard he snorted.

_ ★ ★ ★  _

Richie Tozier is eighteen years old, and he’s running through an airport waiting room. He, himself, will be leaving Derry forever in just three days. Well, not forever in truth. His parents still lived here, and he knew that for the next fours years he’d be coming home every summer and every holiday but... in three days, Derry would no longer be Richie’s home.

Bill Denbrough was leaving Derry that day. Within an hour or so, really. And not just Derry, no. Bill was going big, getting onto that plane and leaving Maine, leaving America. Richie had put off saying goodbye, not even going to Bill’s goodbye party 

_ “Aye, matey, I would never be a visiting ‘ou. We’ll across the pond together.”  _

“BILLY!” Richie screamed as he caught sight of his friend moving up in the line of people waiting to board the flight to England. Bill turned and it was almost like it was happening in slow motion. His eyes went wide and he stepped out of the line, walking towards Richie as though in a daze as Richie ran at him.

“Rich...” 

Richie nearly collided with him, but managed to skid to a stop just in front of him. He quickly stumbled forward, cupping the back of Bill’s neck and knocking their foreheads together. At some point during the last two years of alienation between them, Richie Tozier had grown taller than Big Bill Denbrough. 

He could hear Bill’s take in a big breath and Richie felt like his whole body was shaking. “I’m gunna miss ya.”

“Fuck,” Bill whispered under his breath, hands gripping Richie’s hips. “I love you, Richie. I luh-luh- _ love  _ you.” 

“Now boarding flight 1-27 to London! Now boarding flight 1-27!” 

Richie let Bill go, offered him a watery smile, and walked away without another word exchanged. 

_ ★ ★ ★  _

Richie Tozier was twenty years old, and for the first time he wasn’t going back to Derry for the summer break. He’d considered it, even though he had his own studio apartment out in Cali, but he loved his job that he wasn’t sure would hold a spot for him if he took off for three months. When Stan had told him he was only going back to two weeks in the end of July, Richie had decided to stay out in California. 

As April came to an end, and Richie didn’t pack up his things and make the 2 day drive, was the first time Richie realized that Derry didn’t feel like home anymore. Outside of Stan and occasionally Mike, Richie barely even heard from the other Losers anymore. Eddie called him every couple months to catch up, always very long phone calls that they both complained about the prize but continued to do. Bev made trips out to California once a year, but otherwise they were strictly  _ tag each other in memes  _ friends these days. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to Ben Hanscom. Probably Thanksgiving the year before. And Bill...

Richie hadn’t heard from Bill since he’d left him in the Bangor Airport, and  _ I love you too  _ unsaid between them. 

“Rich...?” Richie turned around as Jane, his girlfriend of nearly seven months, padded into the living room wearing nothing but his oversized AFRICA by TOTO t-shirt. “Are you coming back to bed?”

Richie smiled and nodded, following her into his future. 

_ ★ ★ ★  _

Richie Tozier was twenty-three years old, and he was opening his apartment door at the 3 in the morning to frantic knocking. Bill Denbrough stood on the other side of it, soaking wet and panting as though he’d run the entire way from England. Richie blinked at him for several moments before stumbling backwards and letting him into the apartment.

“Your fiancee left you.” Bill heaved out, staring at Richie with those big wide eyes. Five years since Richie had seen him, and somehow Bill Denbrough managed to make Richie’s heart stop in his chest. 

“Uh yeah,” Richie said, head spinning from these sudden events that were taken place while his brain was still half asleep. “Yeah, like... Like, a year ago, dude...”

Bill seemed to flush, but the apartment was dark and Richie wasn’t wearing his  _ fucking  _ glasses so it wasn’t like he could really tell. “I just heard.” Bill said simply, raising a hand like he meant to touch Richie but stopped at the last moment,

“Takes a long time for information to travel across that big ol’ ocean, huh.” Richie said, half hoping he didn’t sound as bitter as he felt. But part of him hoped Bill could exactly what Richie was feeling. 

“Go out with me.” Bill blurted out, suddenly sounding not unlike a young Richie Tozier, who’d yet to even try to filter his thoughts. Richie blinked at him and said nothing. “I know I... fucked everything... up between us...” Bill was speaking so slowly, Richie knew it was a tactic to help his stutter, but he sort of wished he’d just stutter through the words and get to the goddamn point already. “But I have... always loved you... and I would like to... try being together... please.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Richie asked snarkly and Bill frowned.

“Yes. The ball... is in your court... now... Tozier.” Bill said with a nod, moving back towards the door and walking out it. Richie watched him turn into a small blub and panic struck into his chest as realized  _ fuck  _ Bill was going to walk away. 

Richie rushed out of the apartment, half blind and half dressed, leaving the door wide open. “Billy,  _ wait!”  _

Bill turned around, beaming.   
  



End file.
